


and when i put my arms around him (felt the blushing blood run through my cheeks)

by waterleveldropping



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Begging, Consensual Non-Consent, Dirty Talk, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rape Roleplay, Teasing, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Male Character, Under-negotiated Kink, there is aftercare though, they're just stupid and over eager
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:53:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25576117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterleveldropping/pseuds/waterleveldropping
Summary: Tim's had a crush on his boss for months, but it's always been just that; a crush. He never actually planned on acting on it, and he'd accepted that.So, consider him surprised when Jon stumbles into the Archives one night, worked up as all hell and begging Tim to take him over his own desk.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
Comments: 25
Kudos: 341





	and when i put my arms around him (felt the blushing blood run through my cheeks)

The sound of the staircase that leads down into the Archives is almost like a doorbell in its own right.

It’s old, wooden and probably been around since the building was built. It marks the turn of the rest of the banal office building into something older, something with a secret to hide. 

Tim’s office lies almost directly below it, and he’s grown very accustomed to the sound of creaky wood and muffled footsteps throughout the average workday. He prides himself on being able to distinguish who has come and gone from the cacophony of thumps he hears over the hours. A testament to his time working here, if nothing else.

It’s been… unlike his other jobs, that’s for sure. His coworkers are good, for the most part. They all seem to be very busy all the time, but they try and make conversation during work hours when they aren’t running around and following up on statements. He’s been asked to do so himself on a few occasions, but only really had a handful of standout experiences from the ones his coworkers claim to have seen. 

Sasha especially seems to get roped in with some real weirdos. He can help but worry about her sometimes, but knows that she’s smart enough and any trouble she gets herself into, she can just as easily get herself out of. Martin’s the one that gets sent away on the really dangerous ones anyway, if there’s anyone he should be worried about, it’s him. 

Then there’s his boss. There are many words to describe Jonathan Sims, but for Tim, he’d probably go with something along the lines of… unfortunately hot? They’d been coworkers for a couple of years now, but ever since Jon got promoted to head archivist two months ago, he’s been different. Kind of just became an asshole, if Tim’s honest. Him and Sasha have had many conversations ragging on their boss, but no matter how much they make fun of him, Tim’s crush doesn’t seem to falter. Unfortunately. 

It’s not like Tim isn’t the type to sleep with his friends. On the contrary, he’s slept with both Martin and Sasha and a few others up in research, maybe one from artefact storage, two if he counts when Sasha worked there? But even he’s not so stupid as to seduce his boss. He’s not even sure Jon would be into that sort of stuff, Tim’s always gotten the vibe that he’s not really the type. 

Ah, well. Just his luck, he only found himself falling for the asshole once he was officially his boss. Probably says something about Tim, if he’s honest, but that’s between him and himself; and sometimes Sasha, when they’re drunk enough. Thank you very much.

The morning consists of a few emails sent back and forth, following up on a statement about a man who supposedly harbored a coffin in his home for the better part of a year. Tim’s finally got something by touching base with the old company who owned the building the guy stayed in when he housed the thing, and he figures that’s a good enough time as any to call it for lunch. Bag slung over his shoulder, he’s searching for his keycard in his overcrowded desk drawer when there’s a knock at the door.

“It’s open.” He calls over his shoulder as he continues to dig through the desk for his lanyard. 

“There you are, Tim.” 

Speak of the devil. Jon opens the door carrying a decently-sized box of statements. “Here’s that next box for you. Sorry it’s a bit late, Martin just got in and had to catch me up on the statement he had followed up on yesterday.” Jon drops the box of files near the desk with a ‘thump’. “You know how he gets when he rambles- did I catch you as you’re taking lunch?” He asks, finally looking up from his clipboard.

“Yeah, s’not a big deal though.” Keycard shoved into the small messenger bag, Tim makes to grab his coat from the small rack by the door. “Okay if I start once I’m back, boss?” He asks, standing in the doorway with Jon and the extra few centimeters he has on his boss. A point of pride, really.

“Yes that’s fine. Just make sure you follow up with me before you clock out for the day.” He says and steps aside to let Tim step out. “Start with case #0112905, and let me know if you find anything related to Gerard Keay? Come up a few times now and I’m trying to see if we have a direct statement from him.”

“You got it.” Tim says, and he’s halfway up the stairs when he’s already forgotten the name.

* * *

It’s not that Tim doesn’t like Jon as his boss, he thinks to himself as he orders his usual coffee and sandwich at the cafe two blocks down. It’s just that he’s been burying this crush of his for the better part of two months and that makes their relationship… interesting, for lack of a better word. Not to mention, Jon takes the job very seriously. He’d always been a decently hard worker, but being promoted to head archivist must have had an effect on him (other than making him suddenly very attractive to Tim, but that’s besides the point).

Tim sort of wishes he’d just cool off, they’re just old statements and half the people giving them were probably high out of their minds when the supposed supernatural instance happened anyway. It’s fine, he’d be lying if he said he weren’t at least a little interested in the paranormal, and he does have his own reasons for being here; it’s just that most of these statements don’t amount to much. Jon takes them very seriously though, almost too seriously. 

The rest of the workday passes by in a haze. Tim doesn’t find any statements from the man Jon asked for, but does find statements mentioning him. One about a nurse who seems to have worked in the hospital Gerard Keay was admitted to at some point. He sets it aside and is finishing sending some last minute emails when he hears the door that leads down the stairs open above him. The footsteps that follow are frantic, hurried, and uneven. He doesn’t recognize them, which only serves to make him more interested. 

He checks the time. Almost 10 PM. Christ, when did he let it get that late? 

The footsteps recede down the hall and, Tim realizes with a start, towards Jon’s office. His boss has been known to work late but this is pushing it even for him. Tim hesitates a minute, mulls the options over in his mind, then quickly finishes the email he was writing, slings his bag over his shoulder, and starts down the hall. 

The lights in both Sasha and Martin’s offices are off, so him and (probably?) Jon are the only people still in. He hadn’t even noticed the other two leaving, and Sasha usually pops in to at least say goodbye before she clocks out. Maybe Jon dismissed them early? Tim’s footsteps quicken a bit when he hears a dull crash and then a quick round of cursing from behind the closed door. 

“Boss?” Tim knocks on the office door hesitantly and lightly. All commotion from inside immediately stops, an eerie silence replacing the shuffling. When Jon doesn’t answer, Tim assumes he’s doing that thing he does where he pretends to ignore the knock in the hopes the person on the other side will disappear. Tough shit boss, Tim Stoker isn’t the type. 

He tries again. “Jon, I know you’re in. You alright?” Another beat of silence followed by more shuffling (less frantic this time), and then the door opens a crack. Just enough for Tim to see Jon’s (extremely disheveled) appearance. 

His voice is rough when he asks, “Tim. Did you need something?” 

Tim scoffs in reply. “I should be the one asking you- you doing okay, boss? It’s ten PM.” 

“I’m fine.” he clears his throat before continuing. “Just… got back from following up on a statement. Wrapping up some research.”

Tim doesn’t buy it. Something’s off, and hell if he’s leaving before getting to the bottom of it. He opens the door (Jon is probably half his weight, and much too frazzled to resist anyway) and lets himself in. 

The first thing he notices is that Jon’s office is a right mess. Well, messier than usual that is. Instead of the state of organized chaos the room usually resides in, the file cabinets are open, boxes of statements in disarray, and countless manilla folders and loose papers litter the carpet. Jon’s about as much of a mess as the room is, Tim notes, his eyes glancing over his mussed-up hair, sweater vest pulled off and laying on the desk, top button of his ugly plaid shirt undone. 

“What… happened?” Tim asks, for lack of a concrete question to start on. 

Jon hesitates for a second, apparently mentally weighing the consequences of telling him.

“I… uh, may have gotten too close.” He eventually says. 

Tim squints, confused. “What’s that mean? To a case?”

“Yes, I was following up on a statement. Case #0112905, in specific. I pushed and prodded more than I probably should have and now I’m…” He trails off, hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt, like he wants to unbutton another button but he’s suddenly very aware of Tim’s eyes on him.

“Okay, but, what... _happened_ , exactly?” Tim asks again, there’s something Jon isn’t telling him, and now he’s concerned for his boss’s safety. There are a lot of weirdos out there, especially in the fields they deal in. Jon takes a shuddering breath and leans back against his desk, fingers tightly gripping the edge of the dark wood.

“The old woman who I was interviewing made me a cup of tea.” Jon says, innocuous. His eyes flick up to meet Tim’s and Tim motions for him to continue. “ It didn’t taste _strange_ , per say, but certainly not like anything I’d had before. I drank it while taking her statement and-” He stops talking, shivers despite himself. Whatever’s happened, it’s got him very fidgety.

“And?” Tim supplies. Jon takes a long, labored breath.

“ _And,”_ He continues through gritted teeth. “She must have put something in the tea, It’s the only thing I can think of. She’s done _something_ to affect me so I came back here to read through the statement again for advice but I haven’t found anything yet.” 

Tim lifts a hand to stop his rambling. “Wait, hang on- what exactly did she do? Like…” He lowers his voice to just above a whisper, despite there not being anyone there but them. “Drug you or-?”

“I don’t know.” Jon replies quickly. He runs a finger through his hair and Tim notices the glisten of sweat on his hairline. “All I know is I’m slowly getting… warmer all over my body.”

“Warmer?” Tim repeats, confused.

“Yes, not to mention I’m out of breath and I can’t focus and it’s very uncomfortable and I would very much appreciate it if you could just leave?” He finishes, ending more on a question than he meant to.

Tim pauses. Catches Jon’s eyes proper for the first time since he came in and notices: pupils blown dark and wide, blush splaying across his cheeks and the tips of his ears, breathing is more labored and is honestly getting quicker by the minute; not to mention he seems unable of keeping still, or his clothes on, for that matter. 

Oh, this is too good.

Tim registers the scowl that spread across Jon’s face in response before he even registers that he’s laughing. 

“What? What is it?” Jon demands, looking delightfully put-upon. “Tim!” 

“Sorry, it’s just…” Tim speaks through a knowing smile. “Boss, you’re _horny._ ”

Jon sputters. “What?”

“Good thing you got out of there in time, she was obviously trying to get you _in the mood._ ” 

Jon sneers. “That’s ridiculous. She was pushing eighty, and I am not _horny_ because of some second-rate tea. The statement didn’t mention anything about-” 

Tim walks over and places a hand to Jon’s forehead, effectively cutting him off. “Yeah, see? You’re burning up.” 

At that, Jon can’t hold back the sound he makes. Low in his throat, like a cross between a whine and a moan. He pitches forward into Tim’s touch despite himself and whatever platonic energy this interaction had is gone as quickly as it came. Tim pauses for a beat, then the corners of his mouth crook up in a smile, and Jon tries to back away, stumbles, stammers: “I- I don’t- You-!” Bless his heart, he _does_ try desperately, but Tim’s just about right on the money. 

“Maybe some spooky stuff amplified it, but yeah, for the most part…” He muses. Jon steps back and Tim follows in a way that's almost predatory. “Just… worked up.” Tim can’t resist dipping his voice a bit lower without really meaning to. Force of habit, he guesses.

But really, his very hot boss who he’s been crushing on for months is suddenly inexplicably turned on? And they’re the only ones in the office? More likely that he’d be struck by lightning than get a chance like this, if he’s honest. 

Maybe it’s the electricity running through him that spurs him on because the next words out of his mouth are:

“I could help you calm down.”

Jon sputters. “B-By that you mean…?” He’s practically pushed against the wall at this point, knees crooked slightly inward like he’s having trouble just staying standing. It’s not a bad look on him, all things considered. Something satisfying about seeing him taken down a peg.

“Look, I don’t mean to pressure you, but it might help with whatever’s going on.” Tim reassures him, but Jon’s still got that sceptical look on his perfectly flushed face, and Tim adds “My intentions are pure, Boss, honest. Scout’s honor and all that.” 

Jon hesitates, not looking Tim in the eyes. Tim can tell he’s debating and running through every possible scenario in his mind. It’s cute. “You think it would help?” Jon asks, quietly.

 _I don’t think it’d hurt,_ Tim wants to say, but he holds his tongue. Best not to get cocky. Not yet at least. “Do _you_ think it’d help? What are you feeling?” He settles on.

“L-like I need to be touched.” Jon breathes, shutting his eyes. 

Well, shit. Alright then.

Tim tries to steady his breathing. “Do you… want me to touch you?” Very smooth, Stoker. Real subtle.

But either Tim managed to sound convincing enough (when are his intentions ever really pure) or Jon is just too pent up to think rationally, because he sees something change in his expression. He pauses for a long while and Tim’s afraid he’s going to refuse when Jon surprises him and nods slightly, and if Tim wasn’t fixated on trying to commit his (very hot) boss’s debauched visage to memory, he might have missed it.

“Going to need a verbal confirmation here, Jon.” He steps closer, and with the older man slightly sunken down on the wall, the extra few centimeters Tim’s got on him add up. “Y’want my help?” He grins down at him. See, now’s a good time to get cocky, even if his heart is in his throat. He’s always been good at burying that stuff. 

He can tell Jon does not want to let this situation control him and convince him to do something he normally… would have to think a lot about beforehand, the idea of being left alone like this seems to appeal to him even less. So, he swallows his pride and speaks with as much certainty as he currently can.

“Y-yes. But,” Shit, that’s not certain at all. Jon closes his eyes and tries to find the words in his foggy brain. All he wants to do is rub up against Tim’s leg but he knows he won't be able to look his assistant in the eye ever again if he does. “I mean, I do. Yes.”

“But…?” Tim supplies, sensing something is being left unsaid.

Jon fumbles with the words in his head. This will all sit better with him (and make him not want to crawl out of his skin) if they go about it a certain way but he’s unsure how to approach it. He doesn’t want to weird Tim out, because if he’s honest, Tim is very attractive and probably the best person for this situation anyway. So, despite his body screaming at him to make a move already, he asks:

“I-Is it okay if I pretend I sort of… don’t want to?” 

Tim can’t hide the surprise that passes over his face. Whatever he expected Jon to say, it was not propositioning a goddamned _scene_. “What like, roleplay?” Tim asks, just to be sure. 

Jon squirms. “If you want to call it that, yes.”

Tim rubs at the back of his neck, suddenly uncertain. “And you’re sure?” 

Jon shifts. “I _am_ the one who suggested it. It’ll... make it a lot more comfortable for me.”

Tim shrugs. If that’s what Jon wants, he’s honestly happy to provide. He can work with this, not like he hasn’t done weirder. “Okay, yeah. Alright… safeword?”

“What?” Jon looks at him like a deer in headlights. A kind of... pissed off deer in headlights. 

“Safeword.” Tim repeats. “Y’know like, if you’re gonna be pretending you don’t want what's happening… we need a word other than ‘stop’ to let me know you want me to actually stop. Yeah?” 

Jon is suddenly acutely aware of his mouth open, and finds the words to put in it. “No- but I mean- you’re okay with it?” Tim didn’t think Jon could flush more, but after he described in not-even-sexy detail the scene that Jon proposed doing, he’s red down to below his collar. Tim resists the urge to kiss his neck then and there, hard as it is to. 

“I’ve done a _lot_ of unorthodox things with people, boss. This isn't that out there. Just unexpected. I’m good with it if you are.” And smiles that signature Tim Stoker smile, the one that would put anyone at ease. And to his credit, it does in fact work. 

“Cassette.” Jon says suddenly, as Tim is distracted wondering how far down his blush goes. “For the… safeword.”

“Right, okay, simple enough.” Tim affirms. “You’ll let me know, yeah?”

“Y-yeah. Yes.” Jon replies.

“Anything else you don’t want me doing?” 

Jon shakes his head. “Do whatever you want to me. That’s what I want. I’ll… let you know if I don’t enjoy it.”

God, he’d have paid to have those words come out of Jon’s mouth, spoken in that same smooth tone of his. Tim feels bad for making him wait this long in the first place, poor thing. 

“You ready?” Tim asks, and hopes Jon can’t hear how loud his heart is hammering with how close they are.

His eyes flick up to meet Tim’s. “Ready when you are.” 

And then Tim’s on him in a flash.

“You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed about this.” He says, somewhere between the truth and the role he’s meant to be playing.

Jon’s head hits the wall as Tim’s lips meet his and Jon yelps loud and long. The surprised sound quickly turns into a moan when Tim brings a leg between his thighs, and Jon’s so _small_ he can be lifted onto his tiptoes by that alone. “Christ, you really are hot all over, aren’t you?” Tim speaks into Jon’s neck. 

It takes Jon a minute to fall into his role, but when he does, it’s _adorable._

“Tim, this is- you don’t have to do this-“ He keens under Tim’s touch. “We can work this out some other way I- I promise.” He begs. 

God, it’s so good to hear him take that tone. Desperate and wanting, and Tim intends to provide. “Careful with those pretty sounds, you might give off the impression that you _like_ this.” Tim removes himself from sucking a hickey onto Jon’s jawline before locking eyes with him and _christ,_ Jon looks like a rabbit and Tim’s the big bad wolf who's going to swallow him whole. He grins wide. “You’re not going to like what I do to you, I promise.” And then his hands are undoing Jon’s shirt. If he tears a few buttons off here and there, what's the difference? Jon’s reactions are too good to stop. 

“Stop, wait- Tim-!” Jon pleads, his hands moving all over the other in an attempt to find the strength to push him off. His true intentions aren’t all that well hidden though, and he only ends up gripping Tim tighter, hanging on for dear life. It’s clear to Tim that Jon’s never done something this intense before, and he feels honored to be the first.

Maybe it speaks to Tim’s true nature that hearing Jon beg awakens something inside of him, but the rush he gets is more than just a powertrip. “Y’sound good begging like that, boss.” Is all he grunts in reply. Jon lets out a strangled sound as Tim lifts his small frame easily and carries Jon to his own desk. A new wave of shame washes over him as he fists his hand in his co-worker’s shirt, trying to keep his balance in Tim’s lap. 

“N-Not here.” Jon pleads, and in a way, he’s serious about it, and that spurs him on more. “Take me against the wall, or the floor but not…” His voice shakes apart into small quick breaths as Tim undoes his own tie, reaches behind Jon to firmly fasten his wrists together.

“You’ve got some good ideas, boss. Been thinking about this a lot recently?” Tim smirks. “I think I’ll take you anyway I want to, though.” 

He slowly snakes a hand up Jon’s undershirt. “Slow down; I want to take my time with you, Sims.” His palms find Jon’s small breasts under his loose shirt, and Tim’s eyes go wide. 

“You come into work like this today?” He asks, in reference to Jon not wearing anything under his undershirt. Jon purposely avoids eye contact, but gives a small nod. “Fuck… just like that, for anyone to reach up and touch?” Tim feels his own cock twitch in his jeans. He’s learning loads about his boss today, might as well mark this down as a team-building exercise. 

“Don’t touch them-“ Jon tries, shutting his eyes tight and pursing his lips tightly as Tim glides the pads of his thumb over his small nipples. “I’m sensitive- stop-“ He gasps and Tim can see tears budding at the corners of his closed eyes. Fuck, he’s cute.

“I can see that.” Tim replies, paying no mind and continuing to touch. “With the way you dress, anyone could.” 

“‘Can’t breathe in a binder-“ Jon grumbles.

“Easy access.” Tim replies.

He pulls one hand out from under Jon’s shirt and brings two fingers up to the smaller man’s mouth. “Say ‘ahh,’” He asks nicely, and when Jon shakes his head he twists hard at the nipple with the other hand still under his shirt, gets him to gasp and that’s when Tim shoves his fingers in. 

“There’s a good boy.” Tim smiles. Jon whimpers around his fingers at the pet name, closes his eyes and rocks forward slightly on Tim’s thigh. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” Tim jeers. Then brings the warm, wet fingers back to rub at Jon’s chest more. “Your tits are so small, it’s fucking adorable.” He says, hiking Jon’s shirt up and exposing his chest to the cold air of the office. 

“Please, please stop- it hurts.” Jon begs under Tim’s touch. “It’s too much, Tim, please-“ 

“Make me.”

Jon sobs.

Tim eventually takes his hands out from under Jon’s shirt. Pauses for a minute, then says. “I think I’m going to fuck you on your own desk.” As if it’s the most casual thing in the world. 

“W-What?” Fear shoots through Jon, his heart rate jackhammering in his chest. “No, no you can’t-” 

It seems he can, because in response, Tim stands up and tips Jon onto his back on the old wooden desk. A pencil cup clatters to the floor, and Jon knocks over a stack of statements with his squirming. 

“Stay still, you’re making a mess.” Tim chides, and presses a firm hand to the middle of Jon’s chest, holding him down without much effort at all. He looms over him like this, Jon looking up at him with big, watery eyes. “Won’t even be able to work at this desk without thinking of me now,” Tim muses as he undoes Jon’s pants. His boss really is completely at his mercy, almost dollike. Jon’s underwear is next, and the Archivist flushes as Tim slides the wet boxers down his legs. He quickly presses his thighs together to maintain a modicum of modesty. 

“Aw, none of that, I want to see you.” Tim smiles gently, though the way he pushes Jon’s legs apart is anything but. Tim’s big hands hold Jon open as he rubs lazily at Jon’s clit. The sensation is overwhelming for Jon, who just spent the better part of an hour hypersensitive and hopelessly turned on. 

When Tim finally presses a finger in, Jon jolts forward, but Tim’s hand on his chest holds him down. “You’re h-horrible- don’t-“ he bites out and Tim ignores him, focusing on pressing just hard enough to make it hurt. “Tim, _please-_ I’ll do anything-“

“Bet you would. Look at you, purposefully tangling yourself up in these things and then coming to me for help.” The metal sound of a belt being undone, and then fabric rustling. “You should be thankful I’m just so generous, and that you’re a pretty good lay. Think about it: I get to say I fucked my mean hot boss, and you _let_ me.”

“I didn’t- I don’t want this-“ Jon tries as Tim strokes his own cock to full hardness.

“Well you’re certainly not fighting back.” He presses two fingers into Jon’s cunt experimentally, and _fuck,_ Jon _is_ wet. Soaked through, it's a miracle he didn’t stain his pants. 

“This isn’t fair-” Jon tries, and Tim thinks that maybe he’s right, and an idea forms. 

“Oh, of course, laying on your arms like that can’t be comfortable. Here,” he reaches behind Jon to undo the makeshift restraint. Jon gets a split second to rub at his sore wrists before Tim pins them above his head on the desk, both of Jon’s small wrists in just one of Tim’s hands. “There we go, how’s that? Can’t say I wasn’t generous now can you?” Tim curls the two fingers still pressed into his cunt and Jon whimpers pathetically.

“You _like_ being chased, don’t you?” Tim continues, now three fingers deep into the other. “Gives you a thrill, I bet. All those weirdos stalking you, bet you get off on it. In fact I _know_ you do, why else would you be fucking yourself on my fingers right now?”

Jon whines when the fingers are removed, clenching tight around nothing. Tim replaces the feeling quickly by roughly pushing his cock into Jon’s cunt. 

“ _Christ_ , you feel good,” Tim groans when he adjusts inside Jon, making him take all of him. “I knew you’d be a good fuck, but this is-” Jon shudders under him as he bottoms out. 

“No more, please,” Jon begs, turns his head to the side when Tim leans fully over him and holds him down. He fucks into him a few times, making sure not to actually hurt Jon, and then picks up the pace, the wet sounds echoing in the small office. Despite his protests, Jon locks his legs around Tim’s torso as he’s fucked into the desk, pulling him ever so close.

“Fuck, boss, you’re so-” Tim rambles as he pounds into him. “It’s like you were made for this or something.” He squeezes Jon’s tits suddenly, and with all the build-up over the course of an hour, the sensation is all Jon needs. 

He comes, tight around Tim’s cock, gasping and panting, begging for him to slow down. Instead, Tim pulls out and strokes himself once, twice, and then he’s coming in ropes across Jon’s chest. It stains his T-shirt and gives Jon a wonderful hit of revulsion to top off his orgasm. 

Tim pants, lets go of Jon’s wrists and lets himself hunch over Jon, hands pinned on either side of Jon’s head, trying to catch his breath. After a few minutes he breathes, “How was that?”

“G-good. Very… good.” Jon answers from under him, still panting. “Yes. Thank you, Tim.” 

Tim shifts to look at Jon, pushes the hair from his face. “Pleasure’s all mine. I really did mean what I said.” when Jon gives him a confused look, he elaborates with, “That you’re a good lay!” 

“O-Oh, well, thank you.” Jon clears his throat. “I appreciate your help, even if it was… unorthodox.”

Tim scoffs, a quick exhale that moves some of the hair sticking to Jon’s face. “With you? Anyone would be lucky to… you’re incredible.” And he means it, and in the post-orgasm haze, says, “Plus I mean, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it before.” without really meaning to.

Oops.

Jon’s eyes go wide. “You’ve…?” 

And now it’s Tim’s turn to blush. Well, this is already not how he imagined a potential first time for them going. In for a penny, in for a pound, he supposes. He tries to find that casual air of confidence again. “Well, yeah, I mean… look at you.” Tim gestures, staring down at Jon. “I think ‘employee on bitchy boss’ is a popular category for a reason.” He laughs. 

“Yes- alright.” Jon scoffs. “Your sympathy is appreciated. Happy to help you live out a fantasy.” He rolls his eyes.

Tim shakes his head. “No, not like that. I’m not that depraved.” He pulls Jon up, standing in between his legs as he sits on the desk. Tim pulls his own pants back up from around his ankles as he talks. “Honestly boss, if I had a choice, it’d probably be a lot more embarrassing than this.” 

Jon raises an eyebrow at that, confused. “By that you mean…?” 

Tim does look away then, face feeling hot. “It’s nothing, really. I’m just glad I got to be with you.” Was that too forward?

“Tim, what is it you want to do to me?” 

Oh, well _that_ is forward. A soft hum starts in the back of Tim’s skull, and by the time he realizes it, he’s speaking again. “Sit you on my lap, kiss your neck and tell you how pretty you are. Embarrass you since you’re not used to all the praise, and finger you until you come around my hand.” He hears himself say. Wait, what? Did he honestly just-

“Ah,” Tim starts. “Shit, I’m sorry-”

“Okay.” Jon says.

“I- what?” Tim asks and Jon nods in response. “You’re serious?” Tim asks, a smile hiding his nerves. 

“Completely.” 

Tim’s mind is running a mile a minute, but chooses to fixate on Jon’s ruined shirt at the moment. “Hang on.” He calls then dips to sort through his bag, grabs the oversized hoodie, and holds it out to Jon. 

“Here, it’s the least I could do.” He smiles apologetically. Hesitantly, Jon takes the hoodie, as if this is a new form of affection and he isn’t at all used to it. “Thank you.” And throws it over himself quickly. Tim holds back a laugh, the hoodie is so huge on Jon it practically swallows him. It’s adorable.

“Well, this is certainly one way to do aftercare.” Tim jokes as he sits himself in Jon’s big office chair. He pulls Jon onto his lap, presses a kiss to his cheek, then shifts them so Jon’s sitting with his back to Tim, pressed up against him. He’s still wet and warm on Tim’s jeans, but Tim honestly couldn’t care less. 

“You comfortable?” Tim asks. 

Jon nods. “What do you mean by aftercare?” He asks, fidgeting with a loose thread on the sweatshirt’s sleeve. So he really hasn’t done anything like this before, Tim thinks. That’s alright, Tim Stoker is nothing if not accommodating.

“So, after an intense scene, usually people will reassure one another that it was all just, well, a scene.” He explains. “Make sure everyone comes out of the roleplay okay, y’know?”

“I see.” Jon says, but Tim still hears the uncertainty in his voice. 

“Don’t worry. Here, let me show you.” Tim replies. His hands move gently to push Jon’s hair out of his face. Tim’s lips find Jon’s neck, and he presses a few kisses to the warm skin there.

“You were so good for me, Jon.” he starts. Jon reacts immediately, Tim knows because he hears the breath catch in his throat.

“O-oh.” He breathes. 

Tim smiles against his skin. “Yeah. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ah,” Jon’s breathing is quickening again, and only spikes higher when Tim brings a hand to rub at Jon’s clit slowly. 

“I’m so fucking lucky to get to do this with you.” Tim says, his movements are gentle, but Jon’s sensitive enough form his previous orgasm that it’s still affecting him greatly. 

“Tim-” he breathes. 

“Shh, I’ve got you. You’re so adorable like this.” Tim hushes. Then, because he can’t resist: “Wish you’d be this cute all the time. Certainly would make things around the office easier.” Tim chuckles into Jon’s ear. “Sorry.” he says, but only smiles more when he hears the affronted sound Jon makes. 

Tim moves to push his fingers back into Jon. He’s still wet, and if Tim had to chance a guess, he’d say the first round wasn’t exactly enough to completely overcome the effects. For Tim, it’s like lightning struck twice.

While their first experience was hurried and sloppy and over much too quick, Tim takes his time here, his fingers working steadily in and out of Jon, savoring the small sounds he makes. It does something to him; his uptight boss trembling under his fingers and swaddled in a hoodie so big he almost gets lost in it. It’s a good look for him.

He pushes the hoodie to the side to reach Jon’s warm neck again. Experimentally, he grazes his teeth on Jon’s hot skin and when he shudders and tightens around him in response, he nips a bit at the spot between his neck and his shoulder. 

“Mmh, Tim, c-can-” Jon tries, and Tim figures the least he can do is give him a second of not sucking bruises into his skin to allow him to collect his thoughts. “Could I ask you for something?” He manages to say.

“Weird thing to ask when I’ve got three fingers inside of you, but go for it, boss.” Tim replies, smiling against Jon’s neck. To his surprise, Jon gasps and clenches down around Tim’s fingers suddenly. 

“C-can you keep calling me that?” He asks, no louder than a mumble. Tim’s smile spreads wide and Jon feels it, quickly backpedaling in embarrassment. “It’s just-”

“Call you what?” Tim asks innocently. He heard Jon perfectly clear but hell if he’s not going to squeeze every last drop out of him, not when he’s got Jon in such a perfect position. 

“If you’re going to act like that about it,” Jon starts, and that same signature scowl returns to his face. “Then forget it.”

He really does make this too easy, Tim thinks. “Forget what, boss?” And curls his fingers up into Jon for good measure. 

“A-ah!” Jon moans, and has the audacity to place his hand over Tim’s own, hold his fingers inside him while he moves his hips desperately. It makes Tim’s heart melt, just how much Jon enjoys basic dirty talk like this. “P-please…” Jon keens, and it’s like Tim flipped a switch, the way he turned from chiding Tim to begging for him. 

“You’re so good, boss. Y’gonna come for me?” Tim continues, and quite honestly he feels in his element now, easing into the praise and dirty talk like this, it’s what he loves giving his partner most during sex. 

“I- I’m close,” Jon warns, and Tim picks up the pace just a little. “I… didn’t think this could feel so good..” 

Tim feels his heart skip a beat at that, and gets a rush of pride. Because he’s made his boss feel like this, because his grouch of a boss is going to come for a second time tonight and it’s because of him. “There you go, boss.” He speaks between kisses to Jon’s neck. “I’ve got you, such a good boy.”

Tim feels a rush of affection as he speaks the words and his arm wraps around Jon, holding him tight, pressing him firm to him. He buries his face in his neck, squeezes him with all the love in him. Apparently Jon feels it too, because a few more thrusts and then Jon is squeezing his thighs together, coming on Tim’s hand as Tim smiles into his neck.

A cacophony of sounds, mostly _Tim_ and _please_ and _right there_ spill from his lips as he rides out the feeling. Tim works him through it, holds him tight, and when Jon’s head lolls lazily back against Tim’s shoulder, he pulls his fingers out and wipes them on his jeans absentmindedly.

“Tim. That’s disgusting.” Jon complains at the sight. 

“Careful, boss, I’m the one who just made you come. Twice, in fact. So, maybe have a bit more respect?” He jeers and Jon elbows him lightly. 

“I’m only joking!” He puts his hands up defensively. “Christ that was good. You were amazing.” Tim says. Jon turns to face him, and Tim pushes a strand of grey hair behind his ear, a useless gesture considering the current state of the rest of Jon’s hair at the moment, but it gives him an excuse to ask “Can I kiss you?” with his hand resting against Jon’s cheek, so he figures it’s worth it.

Jon nods, clearly nervous, which is adorably in character for him. To let your co-worker fuck you in your own office but be embarrassed by a kiss… it’s so very Jon. It’s clear how tired they both are from the languid way they kiss, but it’s wonderful nonetheless. 

“I have to ride the tube back like this.” Jon realizes as he’s pulling his trousers back on. 

“Lucky for you,” Tim says, lifting up his keys. “I drove today.” 

“You live on the complete opposite side of town from me, Tim.” Jon replies, unimpressed. When Tim raises an eyebrow Jon suddenly puts it together, a blush spreading across his face. “Oh, you mean…”

“Would be uncourteous of me not to at least offer, wouldn’t it?” Tim smiles as he pulls his coat on. “I could make you dinner or something.”

Jon scoffs. “It’s eleven thirty at night?” 

“Hardly the weirdest thing that’s happened tonight.” Tim shrugs.

Jon figures he can’t argue with that. “Lead the way.” He motions. 

Three times. Lighting can strike three times, Tim realizes with a smile. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, and thank you to bluebismuth for beta-ing!
> 
> this was just supposed to be a CNC drabble and then my brain went: "...but what if it was mutual pining?" and honestly if you'd told me my first fic for this fandom would be jontim i wouldn't have believed u but they compelled me to and before i knew it i had written 6k
> 
> comments are, as always, appreciated ❤️
> 
> title from 'song against sex' by neutral milk hotel


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